Wait… the chair. In one of the stations. That’s where she’d thrown it.
Feeling way older than my twenty-seven years, I rose and stumbled from my office. Sure enough, there was my black ACDC wife-beater lying on the floor against the wall. I remembered Raven pulling it over my head and tossing it right before she pressed herself against me. My dick pulsed at the recollection.
She had felt so extraordinary.
Fuck. I had to stop thinking that way. I had to figure something out, to fix what happened. She was an amazing employee, and I didn’t want to fuck that up. I’d been telling my friends not to fuck her for so long, and then I went and did it.
Awesome.
I’d been drunk, but not drunk enough to forget the way she writhed beneath me and took me inside.
Drew…
Her voice hung in the air, a spectral echo from the night before. The scent of her perfume lingered on my skin and in the room around me. The smell of sex, hot and fast and frantic.
I had practically blacked out when I came. Like an explosion had numbed my senses, pulling my consciousness from my body for a moment. I had a faint memory of her shifting out from underneath me, slipping away to grab her corset and pulling it over her nakedness. Through the foggy haze, I vaguely heard her telling me I couldn’t sleep in that narrow tattoo chair. She steadied me as I stood and helped guide me to the leather couch in my office.
She rearranged my clothing a little, tucked me back into my jeans, and reached for an old fleece blanket at the end of the couch.
The last thing I remembered as I passed out in a haze of sated intoxication was the light touch of her lips on my forehead.
But now what?
All the realities of the night before had been jumbled up. Twisted and torn, leaving me uncertain. Wary.
Looking at the clock, I saw it was about six-thirty in the morning.
A glance in the mirror showed I looked even worse than I felt, and I felt like death warmed over. I kinda smelled like it, too. Like stale booze and sex. I needed a shower. Badly.
I grabbed my jacket and drove home, only a mile or so from Ink. Just close enough to make it quick, just far enough to keep me from walking. Pulling into the driveway, I noted Justin’s pickup was missing, meaning he’d already headed to Butte to teach at Tech. He was my only remaining roommate in this big old house. It had been the band’s house once. The home of the Bangin’ Mofos. The hive of indulgence in our small town of Ophir. Every Friday and Saturday night had meant a wild party following our set at the Copperline.
It all started to change with our friend, Brannon. Not technically a Mofo, but one in spirit. A brother in arms. Also the biggest manwhore I’d ever met, except for maybe Justin. Brannon had fallen hard for the local beauty queen, a girl who didn’t know he existed. A girl he thought would never give him a second thought. So he tried to fuck her out of his system with every bar slut he could lay his hands on, only to have her show up one night to proposition him. The reality of Sophie exceeded his expectations, and, the next thing we knew, they were inseparable.
Shortly thereafter, Denny had moved out when he came home from Ireland all married and shit. Felicity had moved in with us for a bit, but then got knocked up making them think they might need a less lively place to raise their son.
Then Cody hooked up with Ilsa, who already had a kid. Cody was the big teddy bear of the group with all his ideas of what marriage and love were supposed to be. He found it with his little barmaid, too. He dove in head first and almost died, but he found it in the end.
The golden days of massive Bangin’ Mofo after parties were beginning to fade into the horizon. Justin… well, none of us saw him settling down anytime soon. He had pissed off his folks when he decided to forgo a career as a petroleum engineer, something they’d pushed him to do, and instead decided to stay in the area as an adjunct professor. He taught a few classes, enough to pay the bills but not so many that it interfered with his life in Ophir. Or, more accurately, his action with the barstool bunnies at the Copperline.
Just the thought of the Copperline ‘meat market’ sent a shudder through me. Not that I wanted to turn into a girl about it, but the crushing blow Maggie had dealt still hung heavy in my chest. How was I supposed to get up there and play without her support? Without her focus and drive. I didn’t know how to do this without her anymore.
Love sucks.
As I walked into the quiet house, I glanced down at my plastic covered arm and wondered how long it would be before I would regret that ink. My brain was still too convoluted to even begin to process what I’d done. The big block letters - LOVE - burned in my brain. The script beneath it…
…that didn’t look quite right.
A feeling of something, not exactly dread but definitely apprehension, settled in my gut. I studied the script. The letters, slightly shaky in appearance, didn’t say “sucks.”
Instead, Raven had written “heals.”
Love heals.
What the fuck?
Like I wasn’t already out of sorts. Like I wasn’t already mad at the world and off-kilter. That testament to my own failure had been hijacked. What kind of girly shit was that, anyway? Love heals… fuck that.
I showered quickly and pulled a long-sleeve Henley on, knowing I should let the tat breath free, but not really wanting to think about it. I didn’t want anyone else to see it either. To question it.
How could I explain it without explaining everything? Without examining her feelings. Shit… did she have feelings for me? The guilt began to seep in. I was a wreck. No way should I have done that with her. She’d never once led me to believe she was anything more than a friend. Everything suddenly seemed so out of whack.
Driving back to Ink, I waffled between self-reproach and bewilderment. As I pulled into the lot, a quick scan revealed Raven wasn’t at work yet, but I was usually the first one in anyway. Raven and Neil usually came in around nine most days, sometimes as late as ten. It all really depended on what appointments they had scheduled.
After unlocking and flicking on the lights, I made a pot of shitty coffee and slugged some down, bracing myself for her appearance. My gut lurched when I heard the bells at the front, but the heavy steps indicated it was Neil, not Raven. His slow and steady stride echoed through the hall until he reached the doorway of the back room.
“I was wondering if you’d be in today,” he said uncertainly. A little cautious, but that was sorta to be expected since the last time he’d seen me, I’d been losing my mind over Maggie.
“Gotta earn a living,” I replied.
All dude-talk for “you okay, man?” and “I’m wrecked, but whatcha gonna do?”
He nodded in agreement and relief, and that was that.
While I looked through the appointments to see what was on tap for the day, he fired up the sound system. Eighties rock on Spotify began to filter through the shop, maybe a bit loud for my nagging headache, but the pain helped me ignore the shitstorm my life had suddenly become.
At about ten to nine, I was on the phone setting up an appointment when Raven walked through the front door. Dressed in black from head to toe. A tight pinstriped skirt that hugged her curves to just above her knees, and shiny black heels that reminded me of a forties pin-up. Her blousy black shirt fell down off her shoulders, and over the top of it a pinstriped vest accented her slender waist. The bare skin proved a tempting invitation, a reminder how it felt to touch and taste her creamy skin, to skim my tongue along the ink on her collarbone. She set the look off with silver bangles and chains on her wrists and an intricate bracelet around her ankle.
In a flash, my mind had her naked except for the jewelry. The bracelets jangling against my skin. The anklet jingling up by my ear as I spread her legs wide and took her deep.
Fuck.
Stop… must stop thinking that way.
With an unreadable gaze, she tossed a nod my way and headed to the office to dump her purse and the jacket she carried in her hand. Rave
n never wore a coat in the mornings, even in the dead of winter. She said she woke up hot and needed some time to cool down before the air outside became too chilly for her.
She was fucking hot, alright.
She always had been, but Maggie had me so well-trained. Under her thumb to the point that I didn’t dare look at another girl, unless she picked the girl. Now that Maggie was gone, leaving a deep cut in her wake, it almost helped to take note of Raven.
Except it was like Raven took no note of me. Like whatever had happened the night before hadn’t happened at all. Like it was all an erotic dream. Or a porno. A really, really fucking hot porno. The employee getting fucked hard at work by her boss. Oh, Mr. Massey… yes, right there…
If it wasn’t for the ink on my arm, I’d wonder if it was all just a figment of my imagination.
I hung up the phone and ducked back down the hall. She’d left her things in the office and had moved to the break room where she stood splashing a heavy dose of cream in her coffee. She looked up at me and, for the quickest second, there was a tremulous vulnerability in her eyes, so fleeting I thought I could have imagined it.
“Hey, boss,” she said in a low voice.
Boss.
Sorta like Mr. Massey. Porno-like.
Fuck hot.
She even was sorta dressed like a slutty secretary or something in her pinstripe suit. At least she didn’t say Drew like before, whispered breathlessly in my ear as I plunged into her.
Fuck.
Stop… stop that shit. Not the way I should be thinking at all.
“Hey,” I replied, feeling incredibly awkward. She wasn’t my first one-night stand, but she was my first one-on-one in a long, long time. And she was the first I actually had to face the next day. The first one that worked for me.
I stepped into the small room and leaned against the doorframe. I didn’t really want to stand out in the hall where Neil might hear, yet I felt as though I needed just a little distance. I needed to work out what I was going to say. To sort through the jumbled chaos rocketing through my head.
However, nothing came out except, “You changed my tat.”
Raven shrugged, as though she had simply brought me a Coke instead of a Pepsi.
“That bitch isn’t worth the bitterness that it represented.”
I remembered her saying something like that last night, too.
She’s not worth this, Drew…
For a second, I was lost in her gaze. In the flash of stubborn determination behind those violet eyes. She lifted her chin ever so slightly, challenging me to argue. Flickers of that purple color blazed through my mind. The dark makeup and thick lashes half-closed in ecstasy as she lay beneath me, breathlessly gasping Drew when she came. Her hair spread on the chair, all tangled up in my fingers.
Fuck. Stop.
“Eventually,” she continued slowly, “you’d regret the tat you wanted. Someday, you'll fall in love—”
“Fuck that,” I interrupted
“—in real love,” she clarified, hardly missing a beat, “and that ink would have been an ugly reminder of something that never should have been. To you and the future love of your life.”
I’d fall in love. Right. Fuck that. I was done with love.
Awkwardness suddenly set in. I became acutely cognizant that I was standing here talking about falling in love, about my bitch of an ex, with the girl I’d just banged the night before.
Jesus.
I was still a wreck over Maggie, and this… well… Raven must have wanted me. She must have been harboring some kind of feelings for me. For fuck’s sake, I was in no way ready to start anything with anyone. Bad timing. Such bad timing. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I had to make it clear where I stood.
“Listen, Raven,” I started, “about what happened—”
“It’s not a big deal, Drew,” she cut me short, looking down into her mug before taking a long sip.
“Well, it… um…” What the fuck was wrong with me? This shouldn’t have been so hard. “It’s just that, well… you’ve been a good friend, but I didn’t want to lead you on when everything is so—”
She laughed, a sparkle lighting her eyes, catching me by complete surprise. “Drew, I’m not some naive little virgin with stars in her eyes.”
I shook my head a little in confusion. Even more confounded by this. Girls got all emotional about sex. Okay, so Maggie didn’t, but most girls did. Right?
Raven shook her head and gave me an easy smile. “I’m not pinning all my hope on a future with you because we did the nasty.”
“You’re… um…”
“You were lonely. You needed someone… something to take your mind off things. It doesn’t mean I expect anything from you. I was just happy to give you a hand…" she shrugged with a grin, “or a pussy.”
I choked a little. Pussy. Just like that it all came back to me. Again. Every movement and moan. How incredible it had been to sink myself inside her. Her sweet little mewling sounds reverberated through my head. My erratic heartbeat suddenly went into overdrive, and I almost felt dizzy with the rush of blood headed straight to my dick.
“We just…” I cleared my throat, “well, we work together. You work for me. I just don’t want things to be awkward.”
“They don’t have to be.” She gave me a quick perusal and a lighthearted smile. “You’re hot, so it wasn’t like it was a real hardship.”
What do you say to something like that?
“Uh, thanks?”
“Anytime,” she murmured with a wave of her hand and wafted past me out into the main part of the shop.
I found myself obsessing over that little nonchalant reply all day long.
Anytime.
She was just being polite. That was it. Like she’d loaned me a dollar for a pop or answered the phone when I was tied up with a customer.
Or was she?
Anytime.
Maybe she meant it like, “Let’s do it again sometime.”
As the afternoon wore on, nothing seemed to make sense.
She really wasn’t all torn up about sleeping with me. She didn’t act awkward. She didn’t hold back or seem standoffish.
She didn’t overdo it, either. She smiled like she had before and joked with me like she had before. She brought me a cup of coffee and watched me work when she was in between her own clients, but she did the same with Neil.
Just like nothing had changed.
No more and no less.
It was driving me up the fucking wall.
Clear through when the last client left. Raven did her usual nightly process, standing at the front counter to check through the appointments for deposits paid and who still owed what. Neil left, and she locked up behind him. Finally, she’d finished up and came back to grab her coat and purse. She was just going to leave and not say another word about it.
By that time, I had everything completely gnarled up in my head. Maybe Maggie’s rejection had me a little raw and on edge, but I couldn’t shake the uncomfortable suspicions that began to creep into my mind. I’d been absolutely schnockered, but I thought it had been amazing. She’d been amazing.
Considering I’d been so smashed, though, maybe I’d been… less amazing?
Or not at all amazing.
Or amazingly bad.
Fuck.
Every thought exponentially built on the last. My ego took a dive as I tried to clutch it like a shield. I told myself it was good that she seemed so unaffected. It would only cause problems if she really wanted me. She was my employee. I was still all fucked up over Maggie.
Every argument I could muster swirled through my mind.
Yet, as each hour of the day had passed, I ached a little more for something to show it had touched her somehow.
Across the small room, I watched her reach for her purse. Her skirt was a little longer than yesterday, so I could only see up to her knees. At that point, those sexy tattooed lines disappeared underneath the hem.
But the mov
ement reminded me a bit of when she’d leaned over the counter the night before. Of running my fingertips up her thighs.
I finally had to say something. It bubbled out of my mouth before I could stop it.
“So, was it as good as I thought it was?” She halted her movement and tipped her head towards me a tiny bit, not really looking at me, but definitely listening. “Because I was pretty bombed, but I remember thinking… it was fucking amazing.”
Slowly, she turned to face me, studying my eyes. Not saying anything at first. She slowly stepped closer to my desk and leaned a hip against it. In an uncharacteristic bout of what almost seemed like shyness, she looked down at her hands, smoothing her fingertips over her polished black nails.
“It was,” she quietly responded after a moment, “for me anyway. I can’t really speak for you, but you seemed to enjoy it.”
A wave of relief crashed through me. Knowing I hadn’t been found lacking affected me more than it should have, but I couldn’t help the boost it gave my ego. “It’s all a bit hazy, but what I do remember… damn…”
She smiled with what seemed to be a little pride, but something warm there also. Something almost foreign coming from her usual remote persona.
“You'll be a hard one to top, Drew.” She didn’t smile when she said that. She didn’t blush or act all girly. Her words held a sincerity that reflected in her eyes. In her stance. In the catch of her breath. A split second later, it was gone, replaced by a wry smile. “I’ll probably have some pretty disappointing sex for a while until I get over it.”
It had been good for her, too.
Thank fuck!
That shouldn’t have relieved me so much, but, holy hell, it did.
“I wish I remembered more,” I murmured as I stood. She didn’t move away when I rose, when our bodies were suddenly so much closer together. The dark, rich scent of her perfume filtered through the air around me, disturbed by my movements. The low desk light created a shadowy effect that made her dark eyes seem even darker. Wide and mysterious. It sensually highlighted the delicate tats on her shoulders, the hollows just above her collarbones.
Evanescent Ink (Copperline #4) Page 3